


Wrongful Birth

by OverlyCheerfulRat



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: AU, Disabled Character, Discussion of Abortion, Family Drama, Gen, Legal Drama, Moral Dilemmas, Physical Disability, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-16 05:00:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18514396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverlyCheerfulRat/pseuds/OverlyCheerfulRat
Summary: When Seraphi Abrasax sues her obstetrician (and best friend of almost thirty years) for wrongful birth, it raises questions about quality of life and motherhood.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [realisations](https://archiveofourown.org/users/realisations/gifts).



> i guess i'm just giving all my shit to realisations now?

“An inherited disorder caused by extreme fragility of the bones.”

Seraphi Abrasax had three children, aged twenty-five, twenty-one, and seventeen when she filed the lawsuit. Twenty-five years ago, when she was pregnant with Balem, her obstetrician and best friend, Famulus, had assured her that she would have a healthy baby boy. 

He was born with several broken bones and quickly diagnosed with osteogenesis imperfecta.

Four years later, Seraphi went into labour with her second child, a girl this time. She had been cooking dinner while Balem arranged magnets on the fridge when she felt her water break, and her son happily informed her that she’d wet herself. Kalique was an easy birth, and a perfect, healthy baby. Her third child, another boy, was sweet-faced and (more importantly) able-bodied.

When she married Phylux, Seraphi pictured a perfect life. A son who couldn’t walk without fracturing his heels was not in her plans, but she made herself love him anyway. She sometimes comforted herself with the thought that it couldn’t get any worse, at least, but Balem proved her wrong when he was nine.

He’d fallen and shattered his hips, putting him in a spica cast for six months. The week before it came off, Balem had been asleep on the couch, his head in Seraphi’s lap while Phylux listened to a Loretta Lynn album. Seraphi hated country music, but bore with it until a lyric in “God Makes No Mistakes” made her snap, “Turn that garbage off.” Phylux looked confused and mildly offended, but the venom in her voice made him obey. 

The line echoed in Seraphi’s head as she stroked Balem’s feathery hair. “Why is this little baby born all twisted and out of shape?” She shook her head, sniffling quietly. “Just a stupid song,” she muttered out loud. Looking at Phylux, Seraphi whispered, “When he was a baby, I put a pillow over his face. I wanted to…” She bit back a sob. “I thought it would be easier. Better.” Phylux said nothing, just looked down at his lap.

A month later, Seraphi found Balem’s bed empty while waking the kids up for school. He was curled up on the bathroom floor, his lips stained blue, frothy saliva running down his chin as he twitched grotesquely, freckled hands clutching a half-empty bottle of bleach. Later, at the hospital, she was assured that Balem would eventually be able to speak again, although his voice would probably be raspy for the rest of his life.

Seraphi had cried on and off for weeks, and when she finally asked Balem what the hell he’d been thinking, he carefully wrote, “you said it would be better”. She pulled him to her chest (gently, don’t hold him too tight, don’t squeeze him) and whispered, “Oh, baby, I was so wrong to say those things. I didn’t mean it, Balem. Don’t ever do anything like that again, okay? Promise me?” He nodded solemnly and patted her cheek, mouthing “I’m sorry”.


	2. Chapter 2

Titus was actually the one who gave her the idea. He’d read about a wrongful birth case in school, and told Seraphi about it with an air of “aren’t I smart for knowing about these things?” Later, he would regret ever mentioning it. The next day, Seraphi looked up wrongful birth and remembered something Famulus had mentioned during the first ultrasound. It hadn’t seemed significant at the time, just an offhand comment about the picture being unusually clear, but now it made her wonder- if the picture was so clear, shouldn’t she have seen the fractures that were already there? Shouldn’t she have recommended further observation based on that?

Seraphi brought her questions to Bob Intag, a lawyer who specialized in medical malpractice cases. He promised to look into the matter, and a few weeks later, he called her to say that she had grounds to sue. “Osteogenesis imperfecta can be detected in utero at fourteen weeks, and these scans clearly show multiple fractures,” he said in his annoyingly cheerful voice. Seraphi, who had been sitting across from Balem at the kitchen table, looked at her eldest child. He was reading quietly, apparently unbothered by the cast on his left arm.

Phylux was less than thrilled when Seraphi brought it up. “You want to go in front of a jury and say our son shouldn’t exist?” “If we win, we can use the money to cover medical costs,” Seraphi argued. “We’re doing fine as it is! The last time you said shit like this, Balem drank bleach and permanently fucked up his throat, and that was just when you told me in our living room! How will he react when you tell the entire goddamn world that you don’t want him?” “Don’t twist my words, of course I want Balem, I love him.” Phylux sneered. “Yeah, you love him so much you wish he was dead.”

Despite her husband’s fervent protests and refusal to help, Seraphi filed the lawsuit. Famulus knew almost immediately, of course, but Seraphi was able to keep it a secret from her family for several months while the legal work stretched out. Phylux didn’t bring it up, but he didn’t sleep in their bed either; Kalique’s room had been converted into a guest room when she left for college, and that was where Phylux slept after the lawsuit. He didn’t speak to her, either, and their sons awkwardly ignored the subject.

“Mama?” Seraphi was driving Balem home from a doctor’s appointment when he softly spoke up from the backseat. “Hmm?” “When I was nine, you said you didn't want me to die. What changed?” Seraphi froze, gaping at him in the rearview mirror. “Wh- nothing, baby, nothing, I don’t want you to-” “I know what wrongful birth means,” Balem interrupted. “There was an article in the newspaper. You’re suing Famulus because she didn’t tell you I had osteogenesis imperfecta soon enough. If you’d known, you would have aborted me.” 

Seraphi pulled over and crawled into the backseat, sitting next to Balem and taking his frail, doll-like hands in hers. “It’s not like that at all,” she said carefully. “We just need the money for medical treatments. I wouldn’t trade you for the world. When I say… the things I’m going to say in trial, you have to understand that I don’t mean any of it. I really mean the opposite.” Balem stared at her, eyes watering. “Just pretend it’s opposite day,” Seraphi added, and her son smiled coldly, blinking back his tears. “Okay, Mama. I wish you were never born, too.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> forgot to mention this is based on "handle with care" by jodi picoult.

Bob had asked Seraphi if they could film a physical therapy session to show at the trial, and she agreed- but that was all she consented to. So why was he at her house with a video camera? “I just want to get some footage of an average morning in your house,” he chirped. Reluctantly, Seraphi let him in and walked into Balem’s room, pointedly ignoring Bob. “Wake up, honey. Wake up,” she muttered, gently tapping his shoulder. “I can’t shake him, obviously,” she told Bob, who had already started filming.

“Good morning,” Balem mumbled raspily, carefully sitting up. When he noticed Bob and his camera, he froze. “Who is that?” “Bob Intag. He’s making a video for the trial,” Seraphi answered. Balem frowned. “Make him go away. I don’t want a jury to see my whole life.” “It’s only a few hours, Balem, don’t be dramatic.” “But Mama-” “Hush.” 

As Seraphi helped Balem into his wheelchair, Bob cheerfully asked, “Can your son walk at all?” “Yes, but it causes microfractures in his feet and legs. He’s not supposed to walk on his own unless the floor has a very thick carpet.” The next half hour was a series of occasionally personal questions from Bob. “How many bones has he broken in his life?” “How many broken bones and fractures does he have at the moment?” “Can he feed himself?” “Can he use the restroom by himself?” The last one made Balem turn bright red and whimper, “Mama, tell him to shut up!” “Yes, depending on which of his bones are broken,” Seraphi answered, ignoring Balem’s humiliated expression.

The physical therapist seemed put off by Bob, and clearly hated Seraphi, but she smiled kindly at Balem and helped him walk across the (carpeted) room and sit on the floor. “Okay, now I want you to grab this for me,” she said, adjusting something that looked like a gymnastic ring. Balem frowned, but stretched his arm over his head, wincing at the pain it caused. “Can I stop?” His fingers were grazing the ring, but Seraphi shook her head from behind the camera. “In a minute,” the therapist assured him. “Just grab onto it.” Balem struggled to get his arm higher, starting to cry. 

When the tears started to roll down his pretty face, Seraphi rushed forward and pulled Balem into her arms, stroking his hair. “Shh, shh. I’m sorry she made you hurt yourself,” she cooed. The therapist opened her mouth to protest, but Seraphi shot her a withering glare- her back was to the camera, of course. 

That evening, Bob set the camera across from Seraphi and began conducting an interview. “The point of the video was to show Balem’s quality of life,” he explained before turning it on. “This one is to show how your life has been interrupted by his disability.” He switched to record. “My name is Bob Intag, and this is my client, Seraphi Abrasax. Her son Balem was born with osteogenesis imperfecta, better known as brittle bone disease. He’s broken and fractured over a hundred bones in his life; in fact, he can’t walk on hard surfaces without causing damage to his feet, ankles, and legs. Balem is twenty-five years old, but due to his condition he will never be independent. Now, Mrs. Abrasax, are you employed anywhere?”

Seraphi shook her head. “No. I used to head a real estate company, but after Balem was born I had to devote most of my time to caretaking.” “Your husband works at that company as well, I understand?” “Yes.” “Would you have continued working if your child was able-bodied?” “Absolutely.” “Can you tell me some of the ways Balem has broken his bones?” Seraphi took a deep breath and gave him a pained smile.

“When he was an infant, he broke his wrist, arm, and leg on separate occasions just by rolling over. We accidentally broke several bones picking him up wrong. When Balem was eleven, his little sister hugged him too tightly and broke two of his ribs. I think the worst break was when he was nine- he was trying to walk on his own, even though we had told him not to walk on hard floors. He tripped over one of our other son’s toys and broke his hips. When you have an injury like that, they put you in a spica cast, which is this huge bulky thing… Balem was stuck in it for months, he hated it, and it was incredibly inconvenient. I had to carry him because it didn’t fit in the wheelchair.”

“Mrs. Abrasax, would you say that Balem is happy?” Seraphi hesitated. “No. No, I wouldn’t. You heard how quiet and raspy his voice is?” “Yes…?” “It’s not naturally like that. When Balem was nine years old, he drank bleach in an attempt to… to kill himself. It permanently damaged his vocal chords, and he told me later that he wished it had worked.” That was a lie; Balem had never said anything like that. Bob nodded sympathetically and turned the camera on himself. “Well, you heard her. Seraphi spends all her time caring for a son who will never be able to care for himself, and Balem is so unhappy that he has attempted suicide. His presence in the Abrasax family has caused nothing but exhaustion, emotional pain, and endless medical bills. I’m sure everyone will agree that Seraphi, Phylux, and their two healthy children would be happier without him.”


	4. Chapter 4

When Kalique was three, she was convinced a monster lived in her closet, and had a tendency to crawl into her big brother’s bed at night. “No monster in your room,” she explained seriously. It wasn’t a problem until she rolled onto Balem’s arm and broke it. While her brother was getting a cast, Seraphi tried to explain to Kalique why she had to be so gentle with him. “You know those pretty porcelain dolls Grandma has?” Kalique nodded. “Think of Balem like that. He’s very fragile, and he’ll break if you’re rough with him. Be very, very careful, ok?” 

Kalique pinky swore, and from then on she was the most careful toddler in the world. After Titus was born, she took it upon herself to protect Balem from this screaming, squirmy addition to the family. Once, shortly after Seraphi and Phylux brought baby Titus home from the hospital, Balem asked to hold him. Kalique crossed her little arms and forcefully answered, “No! He’s too wiggly.” She then ran up to her room and returned with a stuffed lamb, which she set in his arms instead. Balem accepted the toy without complaint.

Her protective attitude didn’t change as they got older, and it annoyed Titus to no end. He didn’t hate his brother, but he certainly didn’t like him either. When they were eleven and nineteen, respectively, Balem had woken him up at 2 AM by throwing a pillow at his head. “What?!” Balem whispered something Titus couldn’t understand, and the younger boy snapped, “I can’t hear you.” “I need help.” Titus blinked as he sat up, looking at the moon through the window of their shared room and his brother’s lithe frame sitting up across from him.

“I’m tired,” Titus complained. “Please, I…” Whatever Balem said next was too quiet to make out. Titus huffed and flopped onto his back, rubbing his eyes. “Did you piss the bed again?” Balem didn’t answer, but Titus saw him stiffen and lower his head. “That a yes?” “Didn’t mean it,” Balem whispered hoarsely. “I know,” the younger brother replied irritably. It happened several times a month, and Titus always helped his brother clean up, generally while threatening to tell Seraphi.

Usually, he gently picked Balem up and carried him to the bathroom, setting him down in the tub as carefully as possible before changing the sheets while Balem quietly washed himself. On that particular night, Titus started to do the same thing, adjusting his brother carefully in his arms. “You’re smaller than me now,” he commented. “How tall are you?” “Five-one,” Balem answered, resting his head against Titus’s shoulder. “Don’t cry, you’re fine,” Titus snapped, pushing open the bathroom door with his foot. Unfortunately, Kalique entered at the same time.

The three of them stared at each other for several moments, and Kalique was the first to break the silence. “What’s wrong, Balem?” “Nothing-” “He wet the bed,” Titus announced. Kalique nodded understandingly. “I’ll go get Mama, okay? Put him in the tub.” Titus did as he was told and sat on the counter awkwardly, unsure what to do. Balem started crying, and Titus fought the urge to yell at him- he was always crying, why did he have to cry so much? “Will you shut up?” “Don’t tell her,” Balem begged. “Say it was just once.” Titus rolled his eyes. “I can’t lie to Mama, she’ll find out and then we’ll both be in more trouble.”

Before Balem could argue, Seraphi hurried in and sat next to the bathtub, gently petting his hair. “Are you alright, baby? What happened? Tell me what happened,” she cooed. Titus saw Balem’s face turn red; he knew his brother hated being treated like a child, but none of them ever stood up to Seraphi. “An accident,” Balem muttered, touching his neck (a nervous habit). “I see that. Is this the first time?” “Yes,” Balem answered, at the same time as Titus loudly said, “No.” Seraphi turned to her younger son, frowning. “How often does this happen, then?” “He’s lying, Mama, it’s never happened before-” “Maybe once a week-” “That’s not true-” “Both of you shut up,” Seraphi snapped.

She looked from one to the other, then demanded, “Titus. Is this really a recurring problem? Don’t even think about lying to me.” “It is,” he confirmed. “But Balem didn’t want to tell you.” “Seraphi sighed. “Let me undress him, then I want you to put everything in the laundry,” she ordered Titus. He stared at the ceiling, fidgeting uncomfortably, before doing as he was told. Meanwhile, Seraphi ran a bath and yawned. “I’m going to buy some pull-ups tomorrow,” she told Balem, holding up a hand when he opened his mouth. “Shh. Too tired for arguments. Nobody else will know.” “Titus will know. Kalique and Daddy will know.” “I said shh.”

The next night, Titus rolled over and whispered, “You awake?” “Yes,” Balem answered after a pause. “Do the diapers feel weird?” “Leave me alone.” Neither of them spoke for almost twenty minutes. “Hey, Balem.” “Go to sleep!” “Baby,” Titus said after a pause. “I’m not a-” “You cry all the time, you need help with everything, and now you have to wear diapers again.” “They’re pull-ups,” Balem protested weakly. “And it’s only at night.” “That doesn’t make it better,” Titus sneered “Shut up, shut up or I’ll tell Mama!” Titus didn’t answer, and they both fell asleep eventually. 

As they got older, Titus paid less attention to Balem, which suited both of them just fine. Titus privately felt guilty for telling Seraphi about wrongful birth, doubly so when he saw the video Bob had made to show the jury. He made a mental note to keep Balem from seeing it, then immediately failed when Seraphi showed him to ask his opinion. “It’s nice, Mama,” Balem muttered. A week later, Titus woke him up at midnight. “I wanna show you something,” he whispered. Balem, half-asleep, nodded his consent and Titus picked him up, slowly walking outside and trying not to jostle him too much. Balem nuzzled into his neck and dozed off again.

There was a walking trail at the end of their street, and a little clearing in the middle. It only took about ten minutes to get there, and Titus carefully sat down with Balem in his lap when they arrived. “Look, there’s a full moon,” he said softly. Balem watched the sky for a moment. “We could’ve seen that from the window. You know Mama doesn’t like me to go outside without her,” he whispered. “I know. Just thought it might be neat.” “It is. Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so idk if i'm done or not


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok now it's done! this is pretty shite but the garbage will have to do

Seraphi had chosen their house because of the large backyard. It bordered the forest and shared a small pond with the neighbor, just hidden from view by shrubbery. Titus and Kalique used to ice skate there when it froze over in winter, and on one memorable occasion Kalique had tried to teach Balem as well. She was sixteen and he was twenty. Seraphi was running errands all day, Phylux was at work, and Titus had gone to a friend’s house. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Kalique had picked Balem up without warning and marched outside, filling him in on her ice skating plan along the way. “We’ll be really careful, don’t worry. Mama won’t find out and you won’t break anything.” She stepped onto the ice slowly, setting Balem down and taking his hands in hers. “I’m not supposed to stand up on hard surfaces,” he muttered. “Just once won’t hurt anything,” Kalique assured him. “Now, just follow my lead.”

She was right- there didn’t seem to be any damage done, and it was probably the most fun Balem had ever had. They moved so slowly there was no danger of falling, and while Kalique was bored by their pace, Balem’s eyes lit up and he grinned at her, laughing raspily when she spun him around. They stayed outside almost an hour, and quietly smiled at each other over dinner that night. 

Balem thought back to that the night before Seraphi’s case went to court. He had been sitting up, listening to Titus breathe steadily across from him, and trying to decide if he should get out of bed to use the bathroom. Seraphi would be mad that he’d walked on the hard floor, but he didn’t want to have an accident. After a minute, Balem stepped out of bed and slowly made his way to the door, holding his arms out for balance. On the way back, Balem glanced out the window and saw the pond through a break in the shrubbery. It was beautiful, with the moonlight reflecting off the top, and he remembered ice skating with Kalique. Tomorrow, his mother was going to swear in front of a court that she wished he’d never been born, and he would have to watch. She wanted him to be with her, “for emotional support” she’d said, but Balem knew it was really to make the jury feel sorry for her. 

He slipped out his bedroom door and down the hall, quietly opening the back door and stepping into the thin layer of snow on the ground. It took him almost ten minutes to reach the pond. Balem stopped once he got there and, after a moment’s consideration, carefully got on his hands and knees, figuring he’d be less likely to slip and fall that way. Crawling on the ice was not as much fun as skating, Balem reflected, but just being outside was exciting. He was about to turn around when the ice cracked beneath him.

Balem cried out as spiderweb cracks spread across the surface, tried to scream but only managed a pained croaking noise. He barely had time to think before the ice broke completely and the water closed over his head. I can’t swim, Balem thought frantically, reaching for the surface as water filled his lungs. His last thought was a delirious, “Mama will be pleased.”

**Author's Note:**

> yeah so i had this idea in that half awake half asleep state and i fuckin loved it. also this is obvi an au, they're just normal humans on our planet.


End file.
